rd's wrongs."

With a wild spring, Alfred Bernard bounded through the door, and as he
rushed into the street, he heard the melancholy voice of the preacher,
as he cried, "Too late, too late."

Regardless of that cry, the miserable fratricide rushed madly along the
path which led to the place of execution, where the Governor and his
staff in accordance with the custom of the times had assembled to
witness the death of a traitor. The slow procession with the rude sledge
on which the condemned man was dragged, was still seen in the distance,
and the deep hollow sound of the muffled drum, told him too plainly that
the brief space of time which remained, was drawing rapidly to a close.
On, on, he sped, pushing aside the surprised populace who were
themselves hastening to the gallows, to indulge the morbid passion to
see the death and sufferings of a fellow man. The road seemed
lengthening as he went, but urged forward by desperation, regardless of
fatigue, he still ran swiftly toward the spot. He came to an angle of
the road, where for a moment he lost sight of the gloomy spectacle, and
in that moment he suffered the pangs of unutterable woe. Still the
muffled drum, in its solemn tones assured him that there was yet a
chance. But as he strained his eyes once more towards the fatal spot,
the sound of merry music and the wild shouts of the populace fell like
horrid mockery on his ear, for it announced that all was over.

"Too late, too late," he shrieked, in horror, as he fell prostrate and
lifeless on the ground.

And above that dense crowd, unheeding the wild shout of gratified
vengeance that went up to heaven in that fearful moment, the soul of the
generous and patriotic Hansford soared gladly on high with the spirits
of the just, in the full enjoyment of perfect freedom.

<tb>

Reader my tale is done! The spirits I have raised abandon me, and as
their shadows pass slowly and silently away, the scenes that we have
recounted seem like the fading phantoms of a dream.

Yet has custom made it a duty to give some brief account of those who
have played their parts in this our little drama. In the present case,
the intelligent reader, familiar with the history of Virginia, will
require our services but little.

History has relieved us of the duty of describing how bravely Thomas
Hansford met his early fate, and how by his purity of life, and his
calmness in death, he illustrated the noble sentiment of Corneile, that
the